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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311671">Roses/Lotus/Violet/Iris</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Guy/pseuds/Little_Guy'>Little_Guy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Undertale (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Flower Shop &amp; Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Swapfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Comedy, Crack Treated Seriously, Edge is a petty bitch, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Language of Flowers, Sort Of, Swapfell Papyrus (Undertale), Swapfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell Papyrus (Undertale), Underfell Sans (Undertale), but so is Razz, no beta we die like idiots</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:42:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,109</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Guy/pseuds/Little_Guy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All is fair in love and war.</p><p>The love of being petty and mayhem anyway. Chaos reigned king here, and Edge was going to make sure that tattoo parlor and its owner <em>suffered.</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Papyrus &amp; Papyrus (Undertale), Papyrus &amp; Sans (Undertale), Papyrus &amp; Undyne (Undertale)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Roses/Lotus/Violet/Iris</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Look. This is really dumb, it's something kind of comedic that got just a <em>tad</em> out of hand, but I hope you enjoy the ride that is these idiots. And yes, indeed the title is a Hayley Williams song.</p><p>Also, you should totally check out J's Garden Boy Edge art <a href="https://thedarkcronch.tumblr.com/tagged/garden-boy/">here</a>  because it's kind of what made me write this? They're not related in any way but inspiration hit as soon as I saw it.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Twenty-first street was more wild than it was civilized. </p><p> </p><p>Its never ending movement was a heavy and expected, but comforting, blanket, though as of late there’d been more mishaps than usual these past months. Red had said it was just the way the city was, but typical cities didn’t have fights in the street over what business was doing better than another. Edge tried not to think about it too much. </p><p> </p><p>Just last week Frida’s Flowers had been spray painted with a uni-brow over the sign connecting the words over a silly little bet. It wasn’t the most extravagant, nor the most harmful prank there’d been. Frida had simply started placing her flowers in the form of paintings. </p><p> </p><p>Then a new business had opened up in the building that had been owned by Undyne and her girlfriend once they found a better location. Edge didn’t like it. He <em> knew </em>it wasn’t reasonable to dislike people without getting to know them, not that he really bothered to care. But it made their absence more real. It was where he went after a long day of annoying customers and they’d catch up until four in the morning. Now it was occupied by some strangers who had no business taking the space they’d had.</p><p> </p><p>Twenty-first street had lost some of its spark that day. </p><p> </p><p>So it was only fitting that the bitterness had shifted into annoyance when Edge had met Razz Serif. In no time at all he and his brother had been roped into the mayhem, because Twenty-first street was annoying that way. </p><p> </p><p>When Edge was finishing an errand and heading back to a <em> Dime a-Dozen </em> arms caked in dirt, he’d jumped when a motorcycle swerved over the sidewalk like a lunatic. </p><p> </p><p>“DID YOU EVEN FUCKING LOOK BEFORE YOU VIOLATED A TRAFFIC LAW!” </p><p> </p><p>“OH MY DID I HURT YOUR FEELINGS? SMUDGE YOUR CLEARLY FAKE GUCCI BOOTS?” A skeleton scoffed, helmet tucked to his hip. “I DIDN’T REALIZE TWENTY-FIRST WAS HOME TO A MOTHERFUCKER WHO COULDN’T GET OUT OF THE WAY.” </p><p> </p><p>Edge felt his socket twitch. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t recognize the bastard but assumed that he was the new owner of Undyne’s old place. And, seriously, it wasn’t fair that he was an asshole with a cool bike. It was a <em> Suzuki. </em>A Suzuki Hayabusa. And like most guys, Edge had a weakness for motorcycles. It was a fucking shame it was owned by an asshole. </p><p> </p><p>“YOU GOING TO GET OUTTA THE FUCKING WAY?” Razz said. He walked closer getting ready to shoulder Edge out of the way if necessary. </p><p> </p><p>That snapped him out of his reverie over the bike. “ARE YOU GOING TO FUCKING APOLOGIZE.” Edge looked down at him. Leather atop of even more leather, at least Edge had some height over him with his own boots. Razz rolled his eyes, hip cocking out. What the fuck was he, a kindergartner? “OR ARE YOU JUST GOING TO BE PRICK.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz blew a raspberry. “DO I LOOK LIKE SOMEONE WHO APOLOGIZES?” He smirked, pleased with himself. God, he was an <em> asshole. </em>“I DIDN’T GET ANY WARNING ABOUT THERE BEING A BABY ON THE STREET, SO I GUESS WE'RE EVEN AREN’T WE?”</p><p> </p><p>Edge glowered, crossing his arms over his chest as he kept gaze with the asshole. “MUST NOT HAVE PASSED YOUR DRIVING TEST IF YOU’RE THAT FUCKING UNAWARE.” </p><p> </p><p>Razz laughed, the sound high and sarcastic. Edge missed Undyne, who wouldn’t even hesitate to knock an asshole out for so much as trying to cause trouble. Edge might as well have been the one messed up fighter who couldn’t fight anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“I DID.” Razz said. “I’M JUST USED TO CHICKEN’S WITH THEIR HEADS STILL ATTACHED BEING ON THE ROAD.”</p><p> </p><p>Edge huffed. “OH IS THAT RIGHT.” He wanted to slap the bastard. Why couldn’t he just drive like a normal person? He’d probably have a better chance of convincing a wall to move out of the way. “MUST HAVE BEEN A REAL SHAME THAT SOMEONE SMARTER THAN YOU HAPPENED TO BE WALKING.”</p><p> </p><p>“SMARTER THAN ME?” Razz scoffed. “THERE ISN’T ANYONE SMARTER THAN MY MALICIOUS SELF. DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO YOU’RE TALKING TO.”</p><p> </p><p>“LORD FARQUAAD.” Edge deadpanned.</p><p> </p><p>“RAZZ SERIF!” </p><p> </p><p>“OF COURSE YOU ARE.” Edge wanted to knock the bastard off his feet for getting in his face. “AND YOU JUST SO HAPPEN TO HAVE MOVED INTO THIS BUILDING HAVEN’T YOU?” Smile showing off the razor edge of his teeth, Edge scuffed the bastard’s shoes. “I’M THE BITCH WHO’S GOING TO MAKE YOUR LIFE HELL.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz smiles back acid etched in the way his sockets crinkled. “YOU MUST BE THE IMBECILE WHO WORKS ACROSS THE STREET.”</p><p> </p><p>“I HAVE MORE BRAIN CELLS THAN YOUR UNDERDEVELOPED SENSE OF SAFETY.” Edge should have known the bastard would be as dense as a box of rocks.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow amongst the squabbling they started making their way closer to the previously, and newly, abandoned building. The few people still on the street turned to look at them, looks of bewilderment on their faces at the sight of Edge getting into it with a relative newbie.</p><p> </p><p>Scowl firmly stitched on his face Edge barked at the bystanders to mind their own business at the same time as Razz. Great, now the bastard was copying him.</p><p> </p><p>“JUST APOLOGIZE.” He grit out. What kind of person didn’t apologize after nearly fucking hitting someone like a lunatic? It wasn’t his fault that Razz couldn't look before turning into a <em> sidewalk.  </em></p><p> </p><p>Even Edge had his limits for the bullshit he would put up with. By no means was he a saint, but after loving with Red and being friends with Undyne? Patience was a requirement.</p><p> </p><p>God, Edge missed her. They’d patrol Twenty-first street to make sure no one had anything too detrimental planned, chaos reigned freely, but they were the hands that kept things from getting out of line. The silence beside him, the Undyne shaped space hole next to him, was unnerving as it was annoying. They’d been through practically everything together. And now. They were leagues apart.</p><p> </p><p>And unable to talk because Undyne couldn’t figure out her phone for shit. So now Edge couldn’t even bitch about his day with her.</p><p> </p><p>“WHY SHOULD I APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR INCOMPETENCE!” Razz scoffed, once more.</p><p> </p><p>Creeping ever closer to the door Edge rolled his eyes. Why was everyone on Twenty-first street an absolute menace? Yes the profits were ludicrous, the pranks and bets all too common, but absolutely no one on this fucking street had a lick of common sense! Razz was going to fit in swimmingly with the other bastards.</p><p> </p><p>Pausing at the door Edge eyed the changes with distaste. Razz had removed everything that made Undyne’s garage fix up her garage. Not even the stupid nail buts were in the door because she’d thought they’d been, “Really fuckin’ cool, Edge. Just imagine it, a stained black door with nails sticking out the ultimate expression of badassery!”</p><p> </p><p>And each time he’d reply. “YOU’RE GOING TO FORGET ABOUT THEM AND STAB YOURSELF.”</p><p> </p><p>And every day without fail, Undyne would forget at some point and curse. All the while Edge laughed his ass off and said, “I TOLD YOU SO.”</p><p> </p><p>Scowl returning in full force Edge made the mistake of looking back at Razz. The other skeleton smirked, before the door rattled open with far too much force and slammed shut again, nearly clipping Edge’s face with the power behind it. </p><p> </p><p>“BASTARD!”</p><p> </p><p>Edge didn’t try interacting with the prick again anytime that morning.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Returning to Dime a-Dozen after that little spat? </p><p> </p><p>It became the gossip of the day. Because Twenty-first street was nosy like that. It didn’t bother Edge too much. Gossip never lasted long in this corner of the city. There was always something new going that would take the spotlight before it could get too annoying. He would survive until then without committing a crime. Homicide to be exact.</p><p> </p><p>Nudging open the door with his shoulder—because it needed the extra weight on the days Red forgot to fix it—Edge scowled at the bustling place. No doubt, the gossip had already spread far enough for the hyenas to come crashing through to bother him.</p><p> </p><p>At the counter, Wine Aster, possibly the most gossipy bastard on the street, It was a shame that he and his brother owned the best vineyard in the entire area. He was perched on one of the stools next to Red’s section of the store—because for some ungodly reason his brother had thought a flower shop and a <em> bar </em>was a good idea. </p><p> </p><p>Edge had to throw out more ingrates than he could count. It was dirty work and he hated it with a passion. </p><p> </p><p>Wine swirled a glass of rosé in one of his gloved hands, claws curled around the glass like a dragon might hold a pearl. Somehow the man always looked elegant. He could be covered in manure and caked with dirt and Edge didn’t doubt for one second that he’d still have some kind of grace. </p><p> </p><p>Smarmy bastard. </p><p> </p><p>“WELL NOW, DON’T YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’D JUST ROLLED WITH THE PIGS.” If the man didn’t waste so much money in their store on tiny, expensive plants, Edge is sure he would have punched the bastard long ago. </p><p> </p><p>His patience was <em> thin </em>today. Edge had absolutely no time to play these games with Wine, or any one else for that matter, he had to make deliveries and hope that Red didn’t burn down their store. The only reason he hadn’t just turned right on his heel and came back through the back entrance was because Edge needed to change. And, he really didn’t feel like climbing the fire escape just to reach their apartment at the top of the building, thank you very much. </p><p> </p><p>“AND YET, HERE WE ARE. I’M STILL HOT AND YOU’RE ONLY SHEDDING DUST AT EVERY TURN.” </p><p> </p><p>Wine scowled. “IS THE ONLY THING YOU CAN COME UP WITH POT SHOTS AT MY AGE?” Of course not, Edge had a whole arsenal he could fall back on, it was just that the age jokes were the most effective. And if he was anything, it was efficient. “IT SEEMS AS THOUGH YOUR INTELLIGENCE HAS TAKEN A NOSE-DIVE EVER SINCE YOU MOVED HERE.” </p><p> </p><p>“WHATEVER YOU SAY, BOOMER,” Walking around Red’s stupidly placed bar— really who put the bar counter right next to checkout? His brother had absolutely no taste, or sense, when it came to interior design. “DON’T YOU HAVE A CHILD TO PICK UP FROM SCHOOL SOON.” </p><p> </p><p>“okay, okay men you’re both beautiful now break it up,” Red mumbled coming up from the stairs. The building they’d bought out had three floors. The basement worked as Red’s storage and their ‘social gathering’ area, the second was the shop, while the third was their apartment. And by hell would Edge ever give the place up. Mayhem of the street be damned. </p><p> </p><p>WIne raised a single, elegant brow bone. “AND, SINCE WHEN HAVE YOU STARTED WEARING GLASSES.” </p><p> </p><p>Red smirked, teeth on full display as he went about cleaning the counter. “since i found out they made seein’ motherfucker’s easier. y’know my aims improved by miles so it’d be best for ya t’ get goin’.” </p><p> </p><p>Wine rolled his eyes slipping a bill out of his pocket, one swift, controlled movement sending it sliding Red’s way. Edge scoffed when the traitor merely pocketed it with an amused, “a’right, ten more minutes before we kick ya out for loitering.” </p><p> </p><p>His brother could be the absolute worst person to rely on. Money and stupidity ruled Red’s world in his experience and some days—like this one, in particular—Edge felt an acute kind of need to wallop him over the head for taking bribes. The surface would be wonderful, the kid had said, you’re going to love it up there, they said.</p><p> </p><p>Edge lived with a fucking moron and even more minions on this street than he dared to count. If the money wasn’t so good, and their place decorated and situated to all hell, Edge would have packed them up ages ago. Was it so bad to ask for a vacation? A break from the chaos that was their underground for just a bit of time? To open up a nice—<em> legal </em>—business where he didn’t feel the urge to throw someone out? </p><p> </p><p>Apparently so, considering they still lived on Twenty-first street after two fucking years of madness and a fraudulent accusation of tax evasion. </p><p> </p><p>Pinning his brother with the most baleful expression he could muster, Edge clapped his hands, deliberately slow. “BRAVO, YOU’VE PASSED HOW TO BE A CROOK ONE-OH-ONE. ARE YOU PROUD OF YOURSELF.” </p><p> </p><p>Therapy they’d said. It’ll do you and Red some good they'd implored. Kid you were fucking wrong Edge can’t help but muse, as Red snickered</p><p> </p><p>“what can i say boss?” Absolutely nothing to spare you from the eventual retribution Edge would bring down upon his thick skull. Absolutely <em> nothing. </em>“we’re a hundred bucks richer because gramps here love t’ fuck wit’ ya.”</p><p> </p><p>“I RESENT THE NAME ‘GRAMPS’,” Wine said smoothly, one leg crossing the other in a movement as graceful as a river. It made no sense. The man had to be entering his forties and <em> still </em>had his shit together in comparison to the rest of the street, when would he have a midlife crisis? Hmm, when? Edge wanted to pop some fucking party poppers when the man finally had some kind of breakdown.</p><p> </p><p>It was only fair after all. Wine couldn’t be <em> perfect. </em>It went against the law of the world, or some shit as Red was always talking about. </p><p> </p><p>His gaze slid back over to Edge as he took a slow sip of his drink. “IT’S COME TO MY ATTENTION THAT YOU HAVE… SOME DISPLAYS FOR SALE NOW, YES?” Edge was going to <em> kill </em>his neighbor. The monster couldn’t keep his trap shit to save his life and how he had to deal with Wine and his stupidly extravagant taste in cultivating his own brother’s hobbies.”</p><p> </p><p>“DO WE LOOK LIKE HOBBY LOBBY?” Edge deadpanned. </p><p> </p><p>Wine continues on as if he’d never even said a word, looking around their store the way an old lady might look at a dead rat. “FROM WHERE I’M SITTING?” His socket twitched. Old man if you weren’t annoying rich. “YOU LOOK MORE LIKE A MICHAEL'S. LOW BRAND GOODS WITH A FEW STELLAR ITEMS AND THE WORST INTERIOR DESIGN I HAVE EVER LAID MY EYES ON.” </p><p> </p><p>Red tapped a single finger against the wood of the counter. Without looking away from his scrutinization Wine passes him another hundred. Sometimes, Edge hated his brother. Times like this specifically because it reminded him of just how much they would fuck with one another for fun.</p><p> </p><p>“i would sell you for one, singular corn chip.” Red had said sprawled out on their couch with said chip rested in his lap. “and i know you would come back because,” And he’d waved a hand in time when Edge replied.</p><p> </p><p>“YOU AND I BOTH KNOW I AM WORTH MORE THAN A SINGLE CORN CHIP.” And Edge would never look up from whatever he was doing at the time. </p><p> </p><p>“yup,” Red replied, grinning as wide as the ocean as he tossed one Edge’s way.</p><p> </p><p>Wine sat his glass down—and Edge had to wonder, just how he kept a glass on him at all times. It had to be physics bullshit— one filled to a point, perfect claw points directly at the ocean scene bowl terrarium Edge had been working on all week. </p><p> </p><p>“THAT ONE.” Oh hell no. If Edge had to part with the first one out of his successful terrariums Rich Man was paying in full. That had taken him <em> weeks </em>to perfect because resin was a bitch, and so was getting the moss and other plants to grow correctly. “I ASSUME YOU’LL BE TAKING CUSTOM ORDERS SOON?” </p><p> </p><p>“TWO-HUNDRED AND FIFTY.” Edge replied unfazed. Wine was not going to get that eight inch bowl for cheap. Creating everything by hand? Making the specific scene? Edge was getting his money’s worth. And wasn’t worried about it dying, Wine’s kid brother was pretty good at keeping his plants alive. “YOU’RE NOT SWINDLING ME INTO AN OVERLY-COMPLICATED MESS OF WORK RIGHT NOW. COME BACK IN A WEEK WITH YOUR ORDER FROM HELL.” </p><p> </p><p>Wine gave a long-standing sigh, head shaking in disappointment. “WELL IF THAT’S ALL YOU CAN REALLY HANDLE RIGHT NOW.” Another twitch to his socket as Edge’s claws curled into the fabric of his shirt. “I HAD EXPECTED MORE OF YOU. THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS YOU SAY, AND YET YOU CAN’T EVEN HANDLE MORE THAN A SIMPLE TRANSACTION.” </p><p> </p><p>“a’right now that’s enough.” Red interjected coming around the counter to try and help stop Edge from doing something he would no doubt regret.</p><p> </p><p>“WHAT? I’M SIMPLY TRYING TO OFFER YOUR BROTHER A JOB OPPORTUNITY IF IT’S TOO MUCH FOR HIM,” -Edge felt another involuntary twitch as he ground his teeth together. He wouldn’t fall to this. He <em> wouldn’t. </em>“THEN IT’S COMPLETELY UNDERSTANDABLE AND I’LL JUST LOOK FOR A MORE CAPABLE INDIVIDUAL.”</p><p> </p><p>“SIT RIGHT <em> THERE,” </em> Edge hissed ignoring the groan that Red lets out as he slumps against the counter, his hands covering his face. Prowling forward he jabs a perfectly manicured claw of his own into the fabric of Wine’s coat— really, who spent that much money of clothing? And <em> still </em> had enough to buy out the entire town on a whim if he so chose—ignoring the winning smile full of knives directed up at him. Edge wanted to stab the monster. “YOU CAN INSULT THE STORE ALL YOU WANT BECAUSE YOU HAVE THE TASTE OF A GRANDMOTHER IN HER <em> EIGHTIES </em>AND THINK DRAPES ON WATER-COOLERS IS TASTEFUL, BUT DON’T YOU DARE IMPLY THAT THERE IS A BETTER CRAFTSMAN THAN ME ON THIS STREET.”</p><p> </p><p>Wine pushed his finger out of his space like nothing not looking so much as ruffled with another boss level monster in his space. “SIT RIGHT HERE YES? WHILE YOU GO AND CHANGE OUT OF THAT DREADFUL WEAR YOU CALL FASHION?” Edge jerked a nod. Wine smiled, pleasantly and saccharine sweet, “PLEASURE COMING TO AN UNDERSTANDING WITH YOU.”</p><p> </p><p>Turning on his heel Edge strutted his way up their stairs, the door separating the two floors slamming with enough force to shake the foundations. Who did Wine think he was? Implying that there was even a <em> chance </em>that there was a more talented craftsman than him? Edge may have maimed a few people in the underground, even had to torture some people on occasion, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t the best damn creator and business owner on Twenty-first street.</p><p> </p><p>Half the ingrates didn’t even know what resin <em> was! </em> And Wine, of all the monsters, had the gall to say he would take his business elsewhere because Edge couldn’t handle it? Oh he could scoff. Of course, becoming a florist and part time resin art maker hadn’t been his plan when he and Red made it to the surface. Oh, no, no, no Edge had far more fitting plans; such as subduing the incompetent wretch that ran the place due to how <em> poorly </em>everything had been running.</p><p> </p><p>But no! What happened instead? Red had convinced him that they could take a break somewhere. Set up shop and avoid the old guard for as long as they’d fucking wanted and try this whole getting along with humans thing. And Edge had been <em> fan-fucking-tastic </em> at it. They made the most money on Twenty-first street every month without fail and by hell or high water would he let someone like Wine say that there was someone better. </p><p> </p><p>With new clothes and the dirt cleaned off in a rage Edge snatched up his design booklet on his way back down the stairs. Red was still bemoaning into the counter. Ignoring him Edge glowers at the prick settled in front of him. </p><p> </p><p>“HIT ME.”</p><p> </p><p>Wine smiled, wide and pleased as he rested his crossed hands over his knee. “YOU MIGHT WANT TO GET YOUR PEN READY.” </p><p> </p><p>With a click of the fountain pen Edge gives him a placid look, universal bitch-face-mode activating at the drop of a hat. The grin widened as Wine went about describing each and every component of the terrarium and even <em> miniatures </em>he wanted included. </p><p> </p><p>A terrarium scene built around being a mountain path, another being a hanging orchid biome with enough room for miniature decoration lights— in the design of <em> mushrooms </em> no less—the next being one designed around carnivorous plants—fly traps, pitcher plants, maybe even some <em> sundew </em>— and a fucking Ghibli themed bowl. Edge was going to bleed the man dry.</p><p> </p><p>“AT THIS POINT YOU SHOULD ORDER AN ENTIRE <em> GREENHOUSE.” </em> Wine paused in his never-ending description of his bulk order, a considering expression on his face. “I WILL KILL YOU AND HIDE YOUR BODY IF YOU EVEN <em> TRY </em>TO ORDER THAT.”</p><p> </p><p><em> “ </em> OH, PLEASE DON’T WASTE BOTH OUR TIME WITH SUCH AN IMPOSSIBLE THREAT. YOU COULDN’T EVEN DESTROY THE BOOTS I WEAR.” </p><p> </p><p>His socket twitched again. “YOUR ORDER HAS BEEN MAXED OUT TO ALL THE ITEMS I CAN MAKE WITH MY CURRENT SUPPLIES. I’LL SEND YOU THE ESTIMATED COST WHEN I CAN SIT DOWN AND CALCULATE IT IN FULL.” </p><p> </p><p>Wine smirked. “I LOOK FORWARD TO THE END RESULTS. TRY NOT TO KEEL OVER FROM STRESS, IT ISN’T GOOD FOR YOUR COMPLEXION.” The monster was Satan himself and Edge wouldn’t take any other explanation for the man’s sadism. </p><p> </p><p>With a dramatic wave of his fingers Wine—<em> finally </em>—leaves their store. At the closing of the door Edge drops his head onto the counter. “that was real fuckin’ stupid, bro.” </p><p> </p><p>“I AM VERY AWARE. LET ME HAVE THIS ONE MOMENT OF PEACE I ALREADY FEEL DEATH LOOMING OVER ME LIKE THE BITCH IT IS.”</p><p> </p><p>And that was how Edge had yet again, been swindled by Wine and his annoying, extravagant orders. They really needed to just put up a sign with his face on it and a red circle with a slash over it.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Going to the only craft store on Twenty-first street meant that there was a high chance that Edge would see a lot of people he disliked. Or, in some circumstances, outright hated.</p><p> </p><p>Today just happened to be one of those days it seemed. In the fifth isle on the left side, the only isle in the forsaken store that held resin <em> and </em>watercolor supplies. Just his luck that Edge would trounce into the store the same day as Prick McGee. </p><p> </p><p>It didn’t help his temper very much when he realized that said prick, was in actuality, <em> taller. </em> Now, Edge was a decently tall monster. Clocking out at five-eight and a half. Shorter than average would say—and Edge would very pointedly, knock them on their ass when they got in his face— and he was fine with it. But today? Today his magic boiled at the slight fact that the <em> prick </em>of all people had a few inches on him when Edge wasn’t wearing his usual boots. </p><p> </p><p>“OH SO NOW YOU’RE STALKING ME, HUH?” Razz quipped with a matching scowl on his face when they reached for the same packet of watercolor pencils. Why? Just <em> why </em>did this have to be the only craft store on the street that wouldn’t bleed them all dry. “GET YOUR PAW OFF IT I SAW IT FIRST.”</p><p> </p><p>Edge ignored him claws, plucking it off the shelf before the prick could take a nab at it. He was petty. He would admit that wholeheartedly, but for once he actually needed this <em> specific </em>brand of… he turned the set to find the name. Winsor &amp; Newton Cotman.</p><p> </p><p>“YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW WHAT IT WAS!” </p><p> </p><p>“DON’T CARE. NEED IT.” </p><p> </p><p>Placing the set into his basket Edge makes his way down the rest of the isle to look for the resin he needed, as well as the tint. Not even a second later he heard the prick following him. Without missing a beat Edge opened his mouth, “WHO’S THE STALKER NOW.”</p><p> </p><p>“I <em> NEED </em>THAT.” Razz hissed, making a grab for it that Edge simply side stepped. </p><p> </p><p>It was like taking candy from a baby. A particularly large, irritated, murderous baby. Edge was so not giving the watercolor set up easily. It was only fair after all. Razz had nearly killed him—because despite how much his brother liked to joke that Edge had nine lives, he most certainly did not—and that was enough to be petty. The prick still hadn't apologized.</p><p> </p><p>Razz bristles like an alley cat backed into a corner. Edge side stepped out of the way again when he made another swipe, his own fingers deftly grabbing the colors he thinks he’ll need.</p><p> </p><p>Stupid Wine and his stupid orders. Edge loved the pay, really he did. But the <em> work? </em>It was fucking terrible. And Edge was a monster that adored work, refused to take breaks unless he was physically strapped down to a chair and possibly knocked the fuck out with chloroform. Wine made him want to take breaks voluntarily.</p><p> </p><p>It was that bad. The man was a spartan, or Satan and there was no other explanation that Edge would even try to entertain.</p><p> </p><p>“OH COME ON!” Razz said. “DO YOU REALLY HAVE TO BE A BABY ABOUT THIS TOO? OR EVEN WORSE, YOU’RE JUST BEING A BRAT.” </p><p> </p><p>Edge returned with a wide smile, baring his teeth. “AND YOU’RE THROWING A TANTRUM IN THE STORE. WHY DON’T YOU GO BACK AND GRAB ANOTHER?”</p><p> </p><p>“BECAUSE YOU DON’T EVEN NEED IT—” Edge dashed across the open lane before a swarm of children and their school teacher could barrel through like a never ending conga line. He knew this store like the back of his hand as well as the typical patrons and <em> that </em>was Ms. Hutsons' class. Razz would be stuck for at least five minutes as they mulled about.</p><p> </p><p>There’s a rapidly quieting scream of outrage as Edge makes his way further into the store. He could get some fake paths here for some of the terrariums, but others he would have to go out and physically collect some items. God, Edge hated fulfilling Wine’s orders. They’d drive a lesser monster insane.</p><p> </p><p>Eyeing the various paths laid out on the shelf, Edge snatches up one with glue on both sides that he could use to create an authentic sand path before spinning on his heel out of the way of Razz’s hand. </p><p> </p><p>“TRY HARDER,” Edge deadpanned. “MAYBE NEXT TIME YOU WON’T CATCH AIR.” </p><p> </p><p>Razz grinned. The quirk of his expression made it apparent just how annoyed he was. “ARE YOU ALWAYS THIS DAMN ANNOYING?”</p><p> </p><p>“uh, could you like, not cause a scene today?” With a huff Edge turned to face the newcomer. Stretch, because of course it was Stretch. Edge still had to kill his no-good, blabber-mouthed brother for letting it slip to Wine that he’d even been working on terrariums—because Blue was the only person he shared that with and Edge knew for a <em> fact </em> that WIne wouldn’t have waited at the store for who the fuck knows how long unless he <em> knew </em>. </p><p> </p><p>Narrowing his eyes Edge stalked forward. Stretch gave him a nervous smile before his broom dropped from his hands and he was dashing away like the Roadrunner on speed. “YOU <em> KNEW!” </em>Edge roared chasing after him. </p><p> </p><p>There was absolutely no fucking integrity on this street! Edge should have known! </p><p> </p><p>“i tried to stop him!” Stretch yelped winding and weaving between various boxes and displays that his stupidly thin ass allowed him to do, while Edge had to manhandle his way after him, Razz not far behind still intent on snatching up the watercolor set whilst Edge was distracted by a new target to terrorize. “he doesn’t listen to reason! he knew you were excited and wine showed up and he couldn’t stop!”</p><p> </p><p>“and! i’m younger!” Stretched pointed out as if that would somehow <em> help </em>his case. “what really could i have done to stop him?” </p><p> </p><p>“YOU HAVE A MOUTH DON’T YOU?”</p><p> </p><p>The slap of their shoes echo in the store as the typical patrons titter and laugh to themselves at what has over the past two years, become a normal scene. Edge had met the owners of Blue’s and Stretch’s Crafts Emporium a little after he and Red had snagged a building on Twenty-first street. Blue had trounced over to their place with muffins, and a six pack of beer asking if they’d needed any help. </p><p> </p><p>“HI-YA! I COULDN’T HELP BUT NOTICE THAT WE HAD SOME NEWCOMERS JOIN THE STREET TODAY, WANTED TO SEE IF YOU NEEDED ANY HELP OR SOME SNACKS?” Blue had then proceeded to hold out the try whilst Edge had stared him down in bewilderment, Red stuffing his cheeks like a squirrel. “THE NAME’S BLUE! MY BROTHER—STRETCH COME IN—AND I OWN THE EMPORIUM DOWN THE WAY.” </p><p> </p><p>Stretch had ambled in after, sweat already beading on his brow the moment Edge had pinned him with the same look he gave Blue. He’d waved, an awkward, creaky movement with the saddest attempt at a confident smile Edge had ever seen in his life. </p><p> </p><p>“YOU LOOK LIKE YOU’RE ABOUT TO HAVE A STROKE.” He’d said in lieu of a real greeting. </p><p> </p><p>“heh, yeah, that’s uh, that’s on the ball.” Stretched chuckled, the sound high as someone who’d just sucked in a whole lungful of helium. Blue’s smile had turned a little strained at the point.</p><p> </p><p>“CAN YOU LIFT ANYTHING?”</p><p> </p><p>“uh, that’s, uh kinda more blue’s thing…” Stretch flexed, magic coalescing to form the noodliest arm in existence, “‘m more of a moral support kinda guy.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue beamed. Hefted up the pack of beer held in his other hand with ease, and then without breaking eye contact with Edge popped the entire top of one without spilling it. “SO. NEED ANY HELP?”</p><p> </p><p>At that point Edge had uncrossed his arms, turned on his heel and waved them further along into the building. “PLANTERS OUT BACK NEED TO BE BROUGHT IN. NOODLE-ARMS, YOU’RE ON RED DUTY. MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T EAT OR DRINK ALL OF THAT IN ONE SITTING.”</p><p> </p><p>And that had been the start of two terrible fucking friendships. </p><p> </p><p>“he’s louder than me!” Stretch bemoaned ducking under the swipe aimed at his uniform, legs doing an odd little dance when the ties of the apron came undone and he decided that getting free of it would lead to better chances of survival; meaning, not facing Edge’s ire head on. </p><p> </p><p>“blue!” He continued when he saw the shorter monster restocking one the shelves. In the fastest speed Edge had <em> ever </em>seen go at—and he’d seen Stretch hyped up on twelve shots of espresso and honey—Stretch ducks behind the far shorter monster. “make sure he doesn’t kill me! ‘m too young to go out this way.” </p><p> </p><p>Skidding in front of the newest monster, Edge scowled one of his hands reaching behind him to knock the palm of his hand against the curve of Razz’s nose bridge. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT GETTING A DIFFERENT ONE?” </p><p> </p><p>“YOU DON’T <em> NEED </em>IT YOU PRICK!” </p><p> </p><p>Blue cleared his throat, smiling, but there was no warmth in his eyes as he looked at both Edge and Razz. A shiver worked its way down Edge’s spine. Fuck. “NOW, WHY ARE YOU CAUSING SUCH A RUCKUS IN MY STORE?” Blue inquired politely to them both, before shifting his full attention to Edge as he continued, “AND WHY EXACTLY IS IT THAT MY BROTHER IS TERRIFIED OF AN EARLY GRAVE, HMM?”</p><p> </p><p>He’d went and poked the fucking bear. Glowering at the coward hiding behind Blue, he can feel his socket twitch again when Stretch simply stuck his tongue out. With an exasperated motion of his hand Edge points to said coward, “BECAUSE <em> HE </em> DIDN’T STOP <em> YOU </em> FROM SENTENCING ME TO <em> HELL!” </em>Spinning on his heel he gestured to Razz. “AND THIS PRICK CAN’T GET HIS LEGS TO WORK AND LEAD HIM BACK TO THE PAINT SECTION.” </p><p> </p><p>Blue gave him a flat look, mouth thinning to a degree that most would recognize as the ‘I am absolutely done with your shit’ expression. Razz, the idiot that he was, and resident newbie to the street, did not. </p><p> </p><p>“OH AND THIS PIPSQUEAK IF GOING TO DO WHAT EXACTLY?” Razz scoffed, making yet another grab for the set of pencils, that Edge dodged like all the others. “THROW ME OUT ON MY ASS? HE LOOKS LIKE HE CAN’T LIFT A BOX…” He trailed off as Blue very calmly lifted a whole three boxes twice his size with one hand.</p><p> </p><p>His smile was predatory. “WHAT WERE YOU SAYING?” </p><p> </p><p>Razz in a brief moment of wisdom, remained silent. </p><p> </p><p>Blue waves Stretch away to finish his own restocking before turning back to them, cold smile never dropping away, even as his sockets crinkled at the sides. “IF YOU TWO COULD FOLLOW ME.” Edge knew better to try and continue his petty streak. </p><p> </p><p>He’d been tossed out on his ass far too many times to even try Blue’s patience right now. Most people learned their lesson pretty quick when it came to Blue. You fuck with his store? Tossed out. You fuck with him? Tossed out. You fuck with Stretch—which Edge was a notorious for doing—? You get tossed out and forced to pay double for whatever the fuck you wanted.</p><p> </p><p>It was store policy. Blue even had a huge ass sign with everything printed on it. </p><p> </p><p>When they both slink to check-out Blue very easily separates their items, including the watercolor set, and places it in Razz’s pile. Without looking up from his scanning he addressed Razz, “THIS IS YOUR FIRST OFFENSE SO I WILL BE LENIENT WITH YOU— AS IN I WON’T HAND YOU YOUR ASS ON A PLATTER.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz scoffs opening his mouth only to close it at the glare Blue drilled into his skull. “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT. OUTSIDE OF WORK HOURS FEEL FREE TO JOKE AND RAISE HELL ALL YOU LIKE. BUT THIS IS <em> MY </em> STORE AND YOU WILL ABIDE BY <em> MY </em>RULES. IS THAT CLEAR?” It dripped with faux-cheer. </p><p> </p><p>Razz gave a stiff nod. Feet still planted on the floor when Blue shifted his attention to Edge. Great. It was time for him to get his ass kicked. Twenty-first street was fucking terrible—what good was it to be friends with Blue if the monster didn’t even hesitate?</p><p> </p><p>“AND <em> YOU.” </em>Edge winced. “YOU DON’T EVEN NEED PAINT! MUST YOU HAVE YOUR SPAT IN MY STORE AND NOT OUT ON THE STREET LIKE EVERYONE ELSE? AND FOR WHAT?”</p><p> </p><p>Edge only elaborated when Blue raised a brow in a sign for him to spill. There was a matching embarrassed flush on both his and Razz’s skulls from the way Blue was not giving them any kind of privacy as he insulted their live decisions. </p><p> </p><p>“HE NEARLY HIT ME WITH HIS FUCKING BIKE—LIKE THE <em> PRICK </em>HE IS.”</p><p> </p><p>“OH, I’M THE PRICK?” Razz rolled his eyes. “YOU MADE ME CHASE YOU THROUGH THE STORE FOR A SET OF PENCILS YOU DIDN’T EVEN <em> NEED.”  </em></p><p> </p><p>“<em> GENTLEMEN.”  </em></p><p> </p><p>They shut up. </p><p> </p><p>“YOU APOLOGIZE.” Razz gawked, opening his mouth once more. Blue narrowed his sockets, “DON’T. I AM GIVING YOU A PASS TODAY DON’T MAKE ME TAKE IT BACK. APOLOGIZE LIKE AN ADULT.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz’s face scrunched up like a shriveled grape as the words came out stilted and hard-pressed. Edge had seen someone choke on food more elegantly. “I’M SORRY.” </p><p> </p><p>Blue nods in acknowledgement, turning back to him, continuing after Edge passed over his card. “YOU STOP HARASSING PEOPLE IN MY STORE. AND APOLOGIZE TO HIM, YOU BOTH ACT LIKE CHILDREN ON THE PLAYGROUND.” </p><p> </p><p>Edge scowled, derision dripping from the words like acid. “I’M SORRY THAT YOU WERE SO INCOMPETENT TO SEE A PERSON ON THE ROAD.”</p><p> </p><p>Blue sighed massaging at his forehead to hope the migraine would magically go away. “FINE! FINE! GOOD ENOUGH! GET OUT, DON’T COME BACK FOR AT LEAST A WEAK, AND KEEP YOUR SPAT OUTSIDE.”</p><p> </p><p>And then, prompt as ever, Blue had come from around the counter. Grabbed hold of <em> both </em>their shirt collars and hauled them outside like they weighed nothing at all. He made sure to point at the sign after he did it too. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>There was a skeleton standing outside of the shop with a collar—and it wasn’t <em> Red </em>—fiddling with their sleeves and looking for all intents and purposes lost as all hell. Whistling through his nose Edge rounds the counter to head for the door.</p><p> </p><p>Why? Why did he have to deal with whatever the hell this was today. <em> Alone. </em>If Red was fucking here and not doing errands it’d be more bearable, because then his brother could take over and talk someone’s ear off while Edge did the actual orders, when he undoubtedly got tired of conversation. Edge wasn’t a natural conversationalist. </p><p> </p><p>Oh, he loved to talk about himself—because there was so much glory packed into his pinky finger alone that it would take a whole day to get through—but as soon as he had to interact with a stranger. A stranger he probably wouldn’t like. Well. His capacity for interaction went down as quickly as an Iphone’s battery did when there was a new phone. </p><p> </p><p>Holding open the door Edge looked up at the new monster. They were tall—because fucking everyone was taller than him these days—decked out out in a long trench coat, with a furred hood, <em> overalls </em>—which, okay after really looking at it wasn’t terrible—atop a white shirt and a collar. He always got the oddest customers when Red wasn’t in the store.</p><p> </p><p>Edge loved his job. No, really. He loved it so much that there were some days he could just imagine swan diving from the top floor from his <em> exuberance. </em>It wasn’t that high. He’d bruise some ribs at the most. He’d live. </p><p> </p><p>“ARE YOU GOING TO STAND THERE, OR CAN I HELP YOU WITH SOMETHING?” Edge said, brow-bone raised and hip cocked against the door. He hoped the person was just lost.  </p><p> </p><p>They fidget a card in their hands looking between Edge and the sign atop the door, “this is, uh, this is a flower shop?” Edge gave a flat look in return, softening up just a bit when they flush nervously, magic coloring their cheek-bones as bright as a beacon.</p><p> </p><p>Look, Edge might be a hard-ass, but he wasn’t a <em> complete </em> asshole. If a monster was fucking nervous then they were nervous and Edge could <em> try </em>being nicer. Sighing he opens the door wider, “WELCOME TO DIME A-DOZEN, WHERE YOUR FLOWERS COST YOU MORE THAN A DIME A-DOZEN.” He hated the damn slogan Red had come up with, with a passion. </p><p> </p><p>Their brows furrow, a look of bewilderment coming over their face. “but… isn’t that an oxymoron?”</p><p> </p><p>Without shifting his tone Edge replied, “I WASN’T THE ONE WHO CAME UP WITH IT.” Moving back around the counter he motioned to the stool. “SO WHAT CAN I HELP YOU WITH?”</p><p> </p><p>They fidget again sitting on the stool oddly—as in, they crossed their legs <em> under </em>themselves atop the stool. But it wasn’t his place to say anything—before looking at the card in their hands and then back at him. “i, uh, well it’s for my brother? he wanted me to buy a bouquet for someone an’ then give it to ‘em? an’ the name’s slim,” Slim flushed again with a nervous smile, “said i should try interaction’ with people some more.” </p><p> </p><p>Edge eyed the hand in front of him before tentatively taking it. “EDGE. WHAT’RE YOU?” Slim blinks, brows furrowed all over again. They even tuck their chin in the fluff of their hood. “SIBLING?”</p><p> </p><p>“oh, no, i uh, ‘m his younger brother.” </p><p> </p><p>Edge nodded. Hands placed on the counter he cleared his throat. God conversation was hard. He wasn’t built for this, he’d have better luck talking to asphalt than another person. “WHAT EXACTLY DOES YOUR BROTHER WANT IN THIS BOUQUET?”</p><p> </p><p>Slim looked a little nervous then, his smile turning a little strained. “he wanted geraniums,” Edge felt his brow-bone raise without meaning for it to, “foxglove, meadowsweet, yellow carnations, and…” Slim squints a moment of silence falling, “sorry, he uh, he rushed when he wrote it so it’s a little messy. the last one’s orange lilies?” </p><p> </p><p>Stupidity, insincerity, uselessness, you’ve disappointed me, and flat out hatred. A whistle comes from him as Edge goes about collecting the flowers requested. That was quite the message. “HE MUST REALLY NOT LIKE THIS PERSON.”</p><p> </p><p>“yeah…” Slim continued to fidget in his seat. Card tucked away in his coat pocket as he set the exact amount, including tax on the counter. “‘m really sorry about this.” </p><p> </p><p>Edge just raised a brow passing over the bouquet as he collected the money. Only looking back up when Slim hadn’t left, “IS THERE SOMETHING ELSE?”</p><p> </p><p>Slim grimaced holding out the bouquet, right back to him. His skull was tucked into the fluff of his coat as he mumbled, “‘s for you… he uh, he doesn’t like you.” </p><p> </p><p>Edge’s socket twitched again as annoyance bubbled in his soul. Taking the bouquet he stepped on the pedal for the trashcan dropping it in without so much as a blink.</p><p> </p><p>Slim toyed with the hem of his sleeve. “sorry…” </p><p> </p><p>He should have known. “TELL YOUR BROTHER BOUQUETS ONLY HAVE A PUNCH TO THEM WHEN GIVEN IN PERSON. HAVE A GOOD DAY.” </p><p> </p><p>The taller monster just nods scurrying out with an apologetic twitch to his face. Back turned to the door Edge narrowed his sockets as he looked over what they had in stock. If Razz wanted a Fuck You bouquet well, then Edge was going to give the bastard a Death Bouquet. </p><p> </p><p>One by one he goes about collecting the flowers. First: Pink Floyd Roses because the thorns were an absolute bitch. Just like Edge could be when he wanted to. Next, another type of rose, Mermaid Climbing Roses, beautiful but still brutal. Then, all the fucking thistles he could find in the store. Now to stuff the middle he was going to use Dusty miller flower greens because they were weak, floppy, and when used right could turn the handle of the bouquet into a bat. </p><p> </p><p>But oh no, he wasn’t finished yet. Baby’s Breath would be the secret weapon. A way to hide the mess. And the Bouquet went like this: common sense be damned, the filler flowers were first with a few roses, then the thistles as wet as he could get them so the thorns were hard, then he’d line it with roses wet those as well, and then Edge would wrap it in tissue paper. Once that’s all done he tacs a simple note to it with the words: <em> thank you for your patronage </em>on it. </p><p> </p><p>Now, Edge could appreciate that the prick apparently understood something about flowers, but this bouquet? The bitch wouldn’t know what hit him. </p><p> </p><p>Careful to float it in the air with the some blue magic Edge makes his way down the street placing it right in front of Royal Ink—the tackiest fucking name he’d ever seen— and then very politely knocks on the door before leaving. </p><p> </p><p>Three. </p><p> </p><p>Two. </p><p> </p><p>“HE MUST HAVE BEEN DUMBER THAN I THOUGHT IF HE’S <em> THANKING </em>ME.”</p><p> </p><p>One.</p><p> </p><p>“WHAT THE FUCK!” </p><p> </p><p>Dumbass. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Edge looks up from his coffee mug when Red walks in, smirk curled wide across his face. </p><p> </p><p>“okay, who’d ya kill boss? Ya need help disposin’ the body?” </p><p> </p><p>“OF COURSE NOT.” Edge denied, “I JUST RETURNED SOMEONE’S FAVOR TODAY. THEY THOUGHT IT’D BE A NICE GIFT TO GIVE <em> ME </em>A FUCK YOU BOUQUET.”</p><p> </p><p>Red snorted. “ya gave ‘em death, huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“WHY OF COURSE. IT’S ONLY RIGHT IF THEY’RE GOING TO TRY AND TEST MY PATIENCE.” </p><p> </p><p>“ya know ‘m pretty sure wine invited him to his next charity event or whatever the fuck it is.” That of course, was a month or so away. </p><p> </p><p>“WE’LL JUST HAVE TO LOOK BETTER THAN THEM WON’T WE?”</p><p> </p><p>Red just grinned, as welcoming as a shark.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It was a week before Edge interacted with Razz face to face again and the prick had decided to come into his store to do it. </p><p> </p><p>In his arms was a new bouquet and even from where Edge was standing he could see some of the flowers, the most prominent being Wild Tansy and a few Pumpkin flowers. Raising a brow-bone Edge crossed his arms as Razz cleared his throat. </p><p> </p><p>Of course the prick would be dramatic. “I GOT YOU MESSAGE. I’VE COME TO PASS MY OWN ALONG,” Razz without so much as a pause passed the bouquet with a smirk, “WILD TANSY, DODDER, ST JOHNS WORT, PUMPKIN FLOWER, BASIL, WHITE GARDEN ANEMONE, FRAGRANT COLTSFOOT ALL WRAPPED IN PRIVET.” He even bowed with an overly-grandiose step. “FUCK YOU AND EVERYTHING YOU STAND FOR.” </p><p> </p><p>“I HAVE TO SAY. I’M IMPRESSED.” Edge admitted looking over the bouquet. Not just anyone would go through the—petty—attempt of making a <em> correct </em>bouquet and give it to Edge in person. Razz was a prick, but he was a prick with balls of steel. “NOT JUST ANYONE WOULD GO OUT AND COLLECT DODDER OF ALL THINGS FOR THE ULTIMATE DECLARATION OF WAR.” </p><p> </p><p>Razz smirked. “I LIVE TO ONE-UP PEOPLE.” </p><p> </p><p>“QUITE PETTY OF YOU.”</p><p> </p><p>“I FIGURED I’D HAVE TO <em> FALL </em>TO YOUR LEVEL IF I WAS GOING TO COMPETE.”</p><p> </p><p>“WELL, YOU DIDN’T HAVE VERY MUCH TO FALL FROM. YOU’RE QUITE SHORT-TEMPERED AS IS.” Edge sets the bouquet in a vase. Even <em> he </em>could appreciate a good Fuck You bouquet even when it was meant for him.</p><p> </p><p>“... WHY ARE YOU DISPLAYING IT? YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE MAD. INCENSED. THREATENING TO THROTTLE ME.” Razz said confused, arm resting on the counter as his sockets squint. </p><p> </p><p>“I CAN APPRECIATE ART.” Edge said. It was as simple as that. If someone had the balls to compete with him in his own element Edge could appreciate the effort when done <em> right. </em>“I AM SECURE IN MY STANDING AND I ASSURE YOU—I TAKE QUITE A BIT OF JOY FROM BEING A BITCH.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz huffed looking from the stool to the bouquet before settling in it with a mumble of something under his breath. Edge turned his back going to water what needed to be watered routinely, “WE HAVE A NO LOITERING RULE.” </p><p> </p><p>“PRICK.” There’s a pause and then, “THE KING’S BEEN CROWNED, SO FUCK YOU.” </p><p> </p><p>“OH FLATTERY?” Edge laughed, hands already grabbing a few Crown Imperials. </p><p> </p><p>“HARDLY. IF I WAS GOING TO FLATTER SOMEONE IT’D BE MYSELF—CLEARLY I’M THE MORE VERSED OF US.”</p><p> </p><p>“OH ARE YOU?” Edge grabbed the Angrec next to mix them. The divider would be some Palm. “FROM WHERE I’M STANDING I’M THE ONE WITH THE FLOWER SHOP.”</p><p> </p><p>Next he’d mix Everlasting Candytufts with some Belvedere.</p><p> </p><p>“DOESN’T MEAN I’M NOT CULTURED.” Razz scoffed. He watched closely as Edge wrapped it carefully and passed it to him. Razz already had the exact amount needed set out on the counter. Without so much as a pause Razz passed the bouquet back, “NOR AM I SO BULLHEADED TO KNOW WHEN I’M OUTMATCHED. DO YOU KNOW HOW TERRIBLE IT WAS SEARCHING FOR SOME DODDER IN THIS PLACE?”</p><p> </p><p>Edge snorted. Could he imagine? Dodder was a fucking parasitic plant and wasn’t typically used for shit in arrangement. So yes, he could very easily imagine why Razz had some difficulty in coming to acquire some, even more in arranging it all. Only a particularly stubborn—or prideful—individual would go that far; and as far Razz was both. </p><p> </p><p>“OH YES YOU’RE SIMPLY INCAPABLE OF LOOKING BEFORE YOU TURN.”</p><p> </p><p>“I ALREADY APOLOGIZED FOR THAT!” </p><p> </p><p>“AND I AM GOING TO HOLD IT OVER YOUR HEAD.” Edge hands him a geranium laughing when Razz just snorts.</p><p> </p><p>“NOW I’M AN IDIOT HUH? GUESS IT’S BETTER THAN BEING A PRICK.” Razz fiddled with the stem until he’s able to get it to stay attached to his shirt.</p><p> </p><p>“BROADCASTING YOUR IDIOCY ARE YOU?” Edge asked more than a little amused. It wasn’t every day that someone had a more than surface understanding of flowers. He couldn’t say that this was terrible. Razz was still very much a prick, but at the very least he was a <em> cultured </em>prick.</p><p> </p><p>Razz shrugged his shoulders, smirk never falling. “FREE ADVERTISING. YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL THAT I’M WILLING TO LEAVE WITH SUCH A THING ATTACHED TO MY PERSON. DO YOU KNOW HOW GLORIOUS I AM?’</p><p> </p><p>Edge throws some old petals at him. “FREE ADVERTISING MY ASS. COUGH UP A TIP FOR MAKING ME SIT THROUGH YOUR DRIVEL.” </p><p> </p><p>“LOAN SHARK.”</p><p> </p><p>“IGNORAMUS.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz narrowed his sockets. “YOU EVER WANT A TATTOO BEFORE?” </p><p> </p><p>“NO. THAT’S MORE RED’S INTEREST. </p><p> </p><p>Moving back over to Calamus. He’d had an order for the most ‘ostensibly gay’ bouquet he could think of and, the individual who’d ordered it had been in luck. Green carnations were a must considering they were used in a rather interesting way in one of Oscar Wilde’s plays, Calamus was also a coded flower, along with Ladloves, lilies and Daffodils. Lastly he’d include Passion Flower, White Daisies, and some Lavender.</p><p> </p><p>“QUITE PROUD ISN’T IT?” Razz asked with a quirked brow. “IT’S A BIT MUDDLED WITH NO REAL MESSAGE ISN’T IT?”</p><p> </p><p>“THEY DIDN’T WANT A COHERENT ONE BESIDES BEING GAY AS HELL.” </p><p> </p><p>“GUESS THEY ORDERED FROM THE RIGHT PLACE.” </p><p> </p><p>“WHAT MAKES YOU SAY THAT.” Razz points to the plant wall where all Edge had right now is blue, pink and white hydrangeas set up very much in the shape of a flag. Red suffuses through his cheek-bones. He’d completely forgotten that he’d had it setup. “AH. YEAH. WELL AS YOU CAN SEE WE STAY BUSY. I’M SURPRISED YOU’RE NOT HIDDEN AWAY IN YOUR DUNGEON.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz rolled his eyes again. “SPEAKING OF THAT I SHOULD BE GETTING BACK. MANDATED LUNCH AND ALL.” The stool squeaks against the wood as Razz moved off it, “YOU SHOULD BRING RED AROUND. MAYBE I CAN FIGURE SOMETHING OUT FOR HIM.”</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>It’s three in the goddamn morning when Undyne tries to facetime him. <em> Three in the goddamn morning. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I AM GOING TO STAB YOU.” Edge mumbled incoherent and full of poison despite his head firmly being suffocated by his own pillow. To hell with decency. If he wanted to be comfortable for this call then he was damn well going to be comfortable.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure spikey you’re just going to figure out how to stab me through space and time,” She scoffed. “You’re not fuckin’ Red.” </p><p> </p><p>He peeks out from his pillow like a disgruntled cat. “I CAN WAKE HIM UP AND VISIT THE HELLHOLE YOU CALL HOME. AND <em> THEN </em>STAB YOU.” </p><p> </p><p>With a snort Undyne fumbles with the camera to show off an apartment, ignoring the threat. They both knew Edge wouldn’t go through with it this early in the morning. The furniture is mangled to hell and uneven, and by god is it Undyne’s handy work. </p><p> </p><p>“I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE A LEVEL THREE LESBIAN.” Edge grumbled eyeing the twisted chair with distaste. “YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE ABLE TO PUT IKEA FURNITURE TOGETHER WITH EASE.”</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, no spike that's <em> Alphys.” </em> It’s said with a dreamy gaze and all that makes him gag. If she was here Undyne would have no doubt put him in a choke hold. “Oh shut up you’re just jealous that I have a super cute girlfriend who can fix the TV whenever the fucker breaks.”</p><p> </p><p>“I HAVE RED. HE JUST KICKS IT TO HELL AND THEN CALLS THE ELECTRICIAN.” </p><p> </p><p>“Good ol’ bone-head,” Edge can’t help but snort. Red was supposed to be an engineer and sure, he could fix most things, but as soon as it came to any kind of modern TV he lost all sense and refused to call help until he exhausted everything he had. It made quite the amusing sight. “How’re ya doin’ Edge? Miss me yet?”</p><p> </p><p>“IN YOUR DREAMS, FISH-FACE.” Undyne just huffs. Her grin was wide and eager, still just waiting for him to crack. With a groan Edge turns his face back under the pillow still holding the phone. “A LOT. I MISS YOUR LOUD ASS AND YOU STEALING OUR FUCKING FOOD LIKE A RACCOON.” </p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, spike, we miss you too. There’s no hell-raisin’ here! ‘S boring as hell.” Undyne flopped back into her bed, sprinkling of sunlight apparent even from the odd angle. Of course it was already morning there. “Somebody take over the place yet or did the nail door keep ‘em at bay?”</p><p> </p><p>“THE NAIL DOOR ONLY KEPT YOUR DUMBASS AT BAY.” Edge said with a roll of his eyes. “YOU KEPT FORGETTING ABOUT THEM.”</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t ignore the question, asshole!” </p><p> </p><p>“YES. SOMEONE BOUGHT IT ALMOST AS SOON AS YOU VACATED IT…” </p><p> </p><p>“And who’s the poor sap?”</p><p> </p><p>“SKELETON AND HIS BROTHER. TURNED YOUR GARAGE INTO A TATTOO PARLOR ‘M SUPPOSED TO TAKE RED IN, IN A COUPLE DAYS.” He rolled his eyes again, “HE’S FINALLY GETTING THE TATTOO OF HIS DREAMS.”</p><p> </p><p>“Record it! Record it! Record it!” She chanted, “He fuckin’ hates needles so that’s going to be hell <em> please </em>send it after.”</p><p> </p><p>“OH, DON’T WORRY. I’VE NEVER FAILED IN COLLECTING BLACKMAIL BEFORE.”</p><p> </p><p>“Hell yeah!”</p><p> </p><p>They end up talking until six am and Edge has to get ready for work. About everything and nothing all at the same time. Undyne’s new place and her plan to ask Alphys to get engaged because, “‘m fuckin’ nervous spike, what if things go wrong or I fuck up? It needs to be perfect <em> she </em>deserves perfect!” </p><p> </p><p>“‘DYNE.”</p><p> </p><p>“I have like a really nice dinner planned and he favorite show, you know the one with the fighting robots and shit?’</p><p> </p><p>“TRANSFORMERS.” Edge corrected.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah that one. I wanna ask her somehow but I’m so nervous.”</p><p> </p><p>“THINK OF SOMETHIN’ STUPID BEFORE YOU DO IT. THAT’LL GIVE YOU ENOUGH INCENTIVE TO GO THROUGH WITH YOUR <em> SMART </em>IDEA.”</p><p> </p><p>A pause. </p><p> </p><p>“... Why is that the thing that reassures me?” </p><p> </p><p>Edge just laughed into his pillow at how incredulous she sounds.</p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“YOU’RE SHAKING.” Edge said amused. Red’s leg jostled faster as they sat in the waiting room. He didn’t understand why Red wanted to go through with this despite his—admittedly hilarious—fear of needles. Most people avoided their fears. Not his brother. “WHAT DID YOU EVEN SCHEDULE TO GET.” </p><p> </p><p>Red flicked a nervous look his way. “magnolia.” </p><p> </p><p>Made sense. It was the first plant Red had ever kept alive when they moved here. The tree sat in their backyard acting as some of the only shade in the place. Even now Red kept up his care for it even though it didn’t really need as much focus. It was one of his brother’s pride and joys. </p><p> </p><p>Edge stretched out in the chair. The wait was going to be a while. “YOU’RE SURE YOU WANT TO DO THIS? YOU CAN ALWAYS BACK OUT.”</p><p> </p><p>Red snorted. “you’d never let me live it down,” Edge grinned, showing off the points of his teeth all while waving his phone. Red shook his head motioning with his hand in a fucking see, kind of way. “‘sides when the fuck else are we going to get a monster or, hell a <em> human, </em>that knows how to tattoo bone?”</p><p> </p><p>“NEVER. WE MAKE THEIR BRAINS FREAK OUT HALF THE TIME,” He used his fingers as quotation marks, “BECAUSE THEY SEE A SKELETON WITHOUT SKIN AS FREAKY.” </p><p> </p><p>Red just grumbled in agreement next to him. Crossing one leg over the other Edge scans over the place. Outside it was a goth-rocks dream building, black over black with white paint to illustrate the name and a few choice designs—roses twisted into the form of two crowns—while the inside was… admittedly not too different.</p><p> </p><p>Inside everything was still mostly black: waiting room, work rooms, the check-out counter, design counter, et cetera et cetera. The only real difference from the outside was that the accent color was a deep burgundy instead of white. It wasn’t terrible by any means, just so different from what it used to be.</p><p> </p><p>Undyne had decked this place in the <em> most </em> gaudy of colors. Neon mostly. Most people didn’t know it but Undyne was a damn good artist, she grew up on finding comics and magazines that spot-lighted various street art and other types of graffiti and always worked on it when they <em> weren’t </em>on duty. </p><p> </p><p>She continued it up here too. Alphys had been the one to convince her to set up a garage shop where they could fix and outfit cars for racing or commission and Edge remembered the bright as hell strokes of spray paint all over the building. </p><p> </p><p>It’s hard not to miss it. It was like every part of her and Alphys had been scrapped clean of this place when they left, so looking up at the ceiling and not seeing the galaxy of stars and rockets that used to be there, it does hurt. Edge couldn’t say he’d ever been one for nostalgia, but he thinks he understood it now. </p><p> </p><p>“WE SHOULD VISIT.” Edge started, never looking away from the ceiling. The lights were different too, LED and covered the room in a soft red. “DURING THE SLOW SEASON. MAKE A ROAD TRIP OUT OF IT.”</p><p> </p><p>Red gawked. “<em> you </em>are suggesting that?” Then he laughed head falling back against the chair as his leg finally stopped jostling. His nerves distracted for the moment, “damn, boss if you of all monsters are talking about breaks well shit,” He whistled. “who the fuck am i to turn that down?” </p><p> </p><p>He rolled his eyes. “I AM NOT INCAPABLE OF BREAKS.”</p><p> </p><p>“that’s a fuckin’ lie and you know it.” Yeah it was but Red didn’t have to admit it with that much blandness. “how much longer ya think i gotta sit here and sweat?” </p><p> </p><p>“YOU ACT LIKE YOU’VE BEEN SITTING THERE FOREVER.” Razz scoffed. He stepped out from one of the work rooms, binder held in his hands, sleeveless for once. Turns out their—not as much of a prick as he thought—business neighbor was covered in his own type of art. It was all floral based, from the thing vines wrapped around his fingers all the way up to the flowering blue hydrangea carefully illustrated on the ball of his shoulder. “YOU COMIN’ OR ARE YOU JUST GOING TO SIT THERE AND WAIT UNTIL YOU LOSE YOUR SLOT.” </p><p> </p><p>Red squeezes his fingers to help shake out his nerves, a harsh puff of air coming out of his nose. “yeah, yeah, ‘m good. ‘m ready, let's get this shit over with.” </p><p> </p><p>Razz motions them behind the curtain settling in a sit next to the one Red is motioned toward. Edge settled on the last open space he could with an amused huff when he noticed Slim passed the hell out in the other little room. </p><p> </p><p>“HE HAD EXAMS ALL NIGHT AND A FEW TODAY,” Razz explained, handing over the binder to Red. “I KNOW YOU GAVE ME A PHOTO OF WHAT YOU WANTED BUT YOU NEVER MENTIONED THE STYLE. I PREFER WATERCOLOR,” Figured considering Razz had <em> chased </em>him in a craft store to practice with less expensive—and permanent—material. “BUT I CAN DO THE OTHER DECENT ENOUGH. THIS IS MY PORTFOLIO FOR YOU TO SEE WHAT I MEAN.”</p><p> </p><p>“THEY’RE ALL MARKED OUT AND SECTIONED UP,” He continued when Red just looked confused. “YOU SEE SOMETHING YOU LIKE JUST SAY IT AND I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I CAN.”</p><p> </p><p>Taking out his phone Edge scrolled through the latest seeds for sale of the plants he hadn’t yet managed to get his hands on. There were quite a few in actuality, mostly succulents and a few water based plants, but Edge wouldn’t dare order any until they had a proper section set up for them. He was particular about his plants. He liked having areas dedicated to them, so that they all had their place and similar plants around them. </p><p> </p><p>He was thinking about starting the succulent section first. It was easier— “edge if you don’t let me squeeze your fucking hand right now ‘m goin’ to pass out!” Without looking up from his phone Edge doesn’t even acknowledge the death grip on his hand when Red clamps down on it like a boa constrictor.</p><p> </p><p>“STOP YOUR DAMN YELLING.” Razz huffed swatting next to the writhing mass that currently was Edge’s brother. “AND YOUR SQUIRMING! BONE ISN’T ASS FORGIVING AS SKIN ASSHOLE.”</p><p> </p><p>Thumb still scrolling through the selection Edge uses their bickering as background noise as he thought of his plans. It’d have to be outside. Inside was getting too cluttered so they’d have to clean up a section to change up to make everything perfect. </p><p> </p><p>“OH, MY GOD, WHAT DID I JUST SAY!” Edge looked up. Red’s face was contorted into a horrified yet disgusted grimace as Razz tried to continue the design on Red’s arm. With a snort he goes back to looking at his phone. That Bear’s Paw succulent was adorable. “STOP YOUR WRIGGLING! I WILL STRAP YOU DOWN IF I HAVE TO LAWS BE DAMNED!” </p><p> </p><p>“i don’t fuckin’ like needles!” </p><p> </p><p>“YEAH YOU DON’T LIKE THEM! YOU NEVER MENTIONED THAT YOU WERE GOING TO BE A FUCKING HORROR MOVIE LEAD ABOUT IT.” </p><p> </p><p>“VOLUME.” Edge interjected, “YOUR BROTHER IS SLEEPING.” </p><p> </p><p>That gets the both of them to cooperate for all of five minutes until the bickering starts up again, Red’s foot nearly taking out Razz’s head. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>Absolutely anything and everything Wine related should be tossed into a bin and set on fire. </p><p> </p><p>Edge had been here earlier than any other guest because he had to deliver—yet <em> another </em>—terrarium order to the estate. It was a nice place. A really nice place even though it stunk of the rich bastard and his kid brother, who unlike Wine, Edge actually liked. He didn’t give him custom orders that made him want to bash his head into a wall. </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t even know what the gathering was <em> for. </em>He’d just agreed to the invitation because Wine invited absolutely everyone just to show how well off he was doing compared to the rest of them. Rich ass bastard. </p><p> </p><p>Flute of champagne in hand Edge sticks to the side of the house while the rest of the guests mingled for the garden party. It was <em> littered </em> with flora. From Pink Pampas grass to a Purple Wisteria plant climbing up the west side of the literal <em> mansion. </em>Coffee had come in for the Wisteria personally. He was a younger monster, out of stripes sure, but still in school and smart as a whip when it came to certain things—such as plants. Kid knew more than Edge did at times. </p><p> </p><p>Red was already by the fountain. A <em> fountain. </em>Who the fuck just had a fountain in their backyard? And frankly, Edge was content to let his brother do all the networking for them. He could just enjoy a few glasses of alcohol, sit next to the little fire when he was ready, and ignore everyone until Red was ready to go home. </p><p> </p><p>“WELL, WELL, WELL DON’T YOU LOOK AS PLEASED AS PUNCH.” Razz said, strolling up next to him, a glass of wine held in his own hand. Quirking a brow, he takes another sip without answering. “YOU JUST STAYING IN THE CORNER ALL NIGHT, OR ARE YOU GOING TO INTERACT WITH THE REST OF THE WORLD?”</p><p> </p><p>“NOT AN INTERACTING WITH THE WORLD KIND OF PERSON TONIGHT.” Edge admitted. Things like this had never been his thing. Even in the underground. Sure, he’d wanted to be reverie, respected, even looked up to, but Edge had never enjoyed having to physically interact with people he wasn’t interested in, didn’t know beforehand, or were only interested in the typical conversation on his underground—which was usually, but no always limited to, how they killed people, or what the latest crime management was. </p><p> </p><p>Razz hummed. So they sipped their individual drinks in a comfortable sort of silence. One that didn’t make Edge’s bones itch with the awkward need to continue a conversation, or give an insincere compliment that was suspected of him, or on some of the worst days, give an <em> insult </em>that was expected of him. </p><p> </p><p>Because Edge had an image as cold, brooding, untouchable in his underground. When in reality he was tired, tired, even more tired, and on the occasion blunt. Maliciousness wasn’t something he did without thinking, despite how petty he could be. </p><p> </p><p>“YOU HUNGRY AT ALL?” Razz pipped up only after some of the guests had started swarming indoors, with only a handful still enjoying the garden space. </p><p> </p><p>“EVEN IF I WASN’T IT’D BE BEST TO SNAG SOMETHING BEFORE RED AND THE OTHER BLACK-HOLES DEVOURED EVERYTHING.” Razz laughed the bit of wine still in his glass nearly spilling with the way he was drinking. “FORGET HOW TO ACT FROM ALL YOUR IMBIBEMENT.”</p><p> </p><p>“OH JUST TAKE THE COMPLIMENT WITHOUT BEING A PRICK,” Razz said with a scoff, as he tugged the door open, “GET MOVING BEFORE I DECIDE TO LET IT SHUT IT IN YOUR FACE.”</p><p> </p><p>“THERE WAS A COMPLIMENT WAS THERE?” Edge replied with a roll of his eyes, hand picking up a new flute of champagne after setting his empty glass on the staff's tray. Even if Wine could be a sadistic bastard with his sporadic orders, Edge could appreciate his extensive collection of drinks. </p><p> </p><p>Razz scowled, no real malice held in the expression as they made their way to the buffet table. Scanning the room Edge could say with some surprise that he couldn’t see Red at all, usually when it came to food his brother was as alert as a bloodhound. He’d never miss a meal—or free food for that matter. Even if he didn’t eat right then and there, Red always managed to snag some leftovers to take with him when they came to these events. </p><p> </p><p>“ARE YOU A PICKY BITCH, OR ARE YOU ONE OF THE KINDS OF MONSTERS WILLING TO EAT A YEAR OLDER CANDY BAR OUT OF THE DUMPSTER”— He crooked his fingers as air quotes as best he could with a plate in hand—”BECAUSE YOU CAN’T TASTE IT WITHOUT A TONGUE FORMED.”</p><p> </p><p>Edge eyed him with distaste. Only letting up the look when Razz rushed to restore his dignity, “I WAS <em> NOT </em>IMPLYING THAT I DID THAT!”</p><p> </p><p>“GOOD, I’M AFRAID THAT I WOULD RIP YOU OUT OF MY LIFE LIKE A PARTICULARLY UGLY WEED IF SO.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a pause. Then, a smirk so wide, and so smug that Edge wants to smack himself when what he said catches up to him. Someone kill him now. Better yet, a random object should just knock him in the head so he could make an over-dramatic bitch, like the inner theater student he was. </p><p> </p><p>“OH I’M PART OF YOU LIFE NOW AM I?” Razz teased an odd mix of mocking and playful that surprisingly, doesn’t make Edge want to bash in his skull. Scowl forming Edge speeds up to head to the other part of the buffet table. This is why he didn’t talk to people. He was fucking awkward under it all. “NOPE, NO, NO NONE OF THE RUNNING AWAY ASSHOLE,” </p><p> </p><p>Pointedly looking everywhere except Razz’s face, Edge methodically plates some chicken, vegetables and white rice on his plate. “I THINK YOU’VE LOST YOUR SENSE OF HEARING. I ASSURE YOU I SAID THAT YOU WERE A NUISANCE IN MY LIFE.”</p><p> </p><p>“AND I ASSURE <em> YOU </em> THAT MY HEARING IS PERFECTLY FINE,” The smirk never disappears even as Edge tried to spin on his heel to head for the most packed table he could—which not a <em> great </em>idea, but Edge was not a sappy bitch. He was not going to be swindled into admitting that he maybe, kind of, thought of the prick as an odd enemy-friend thing. </p><p> </p><p>Razz came into the store pretty often now ever since the whole Fuck You bouquet incident and Edge… hadn’t felt the urge to spit in his face like he used to. In an odd, never to be brought up way, he actually looked forward to Razz’s random visits. It was nice to talk about the various hidden meanings of flowers and how they could be used in more and more elaborate ways. Like, just last week, they’d been discussing how to tell Geoff that he wasn’t invited to the monthly potluck. </p><p> </p><p>“WHY NOT JUST STUFF IT FULL OF BEGONIA’S AND BUTTERFLY WEED?” Razz offered up, chin propped on his hand as Edge bustled about in the shop. “THEY MEAN DEEP THINKING AND LEAVE ME.” </p><p> </p><p>“IT’S <em> GEOFF.” </em>Edge scoffed, grabbing some Privet due to the fact that it meant prohibitive. “HE’LL LOOK AT THE PRETTY COLORS AND COMPLETELY DISREGARD AND POSSIBLE MESSAGE.”</p><p> </p><p>“THEN MAKE HIM SOMETHING UGLY AS FUCK.”</p><p> </p><p>“BUT MY <em> PRINCIPLES.” </em>Edge defends, “IF IT DOESN’T LOOK PRETTY AND STILL PASS ON THE MESSAGE WHAT’S THE POINT?”</p><p> </p><p>“EDGE OH MY GOD JUST MAKE IT UGLY!” </p><p> </p><p>With the skid of a chair Razz settles at a table outside next to him, the fire pit directly in front of them, tinting their bones a warm red and orange that made Edge think of Zinnias. “SO HAVE I FINALLY REDEEMED MYSELF OF NEARLY RUNNING YOU OVER?”</p><p> </p><p>“HARDLY. YOU’VE SIMPLY BEEN RAISED UP FROM BEING CONSIDERED A PEASANT.” Edge replied, gaze still firmly fixed on the fire in front of him. The wine had already made him a little soft, that must have been the reason he’d had such a terrible slip of the tongue. Alcohol always made him sappy. “IN NO WAY HAVE I FORGIVEN YOU FOR THAT.” </p><p> </p><p>Razz rolled his eyes, legs akimbo as he sat on the decorative log Wine had talked about importing from somewhere. “YEAH, YEAH YOU PRICKLY ASS I GET IT. I’M THE SCUM OF THE EARTH FOR NOT LOOKING.” He tosses a grape into his mouth, a bit of color to his face from his own drinking. They were both light weights apparently. “WELL I’M NOT TOO CHICKEN TO ADMIT THAT YOU’VE GROWN ON ME—ASSHOLERY AND ALL. YOU SHOULD BE GRATEFUL.”</p><p> </p><p>Edge gave a snort attention finally pulled away from the fire long enough to eat. “GRATEFUL TO HAVE A COURT JESTER MAYBE.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz just whistled through his nose unoffended, “WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT?” He said to the air hands resting on the log and head tilted to look up a the sky. Edge looked over in confusion. “THAT MOVING HERE, NEARLY RUNNING SOMEONE OVER AND THEN GETTING INTO A BOUQUET OFF WOULD BE AN EFFECTIVE WAY TO MAKE FRIENDS?”</p><p> </p><p>“NOT FRIENDS.” It’s an automatic response without thought. Edge winced at his own bland tone.</p><p> </p><p>“KEEP TELLIN’ YOURSELF THAT, SUNSHINE.” He popped another grape into his mouth. Edge grimaced. It doesn’t get missed, “WHAT? DON’T LIKE SUNSHINE DESPITE YOUR <em> WELCOMING </em>DISPLAY.”</p><p> </p><p>Without looking Edge can feel the smirk pointed at the side of his head. “PRICK.” And now his thought to mouth filter was done for. “IT’S NOT… TERRIBLE.” He amended. “I’VE HAD WORSE.”</p><p> </p><p>“OH LIKE WHAT?”</p><p> </p><p>Razz had scooted closer, grapes the only thing in hand from his plate. It wasn’t bad. Edge didn’t often get to relax like this, the last person he’d really sat next to and just enjoyed the company with had been Undyne. </p><p> </p><p>Because of course, Edge relaxed with his brother. They had movie nights at least one every two weeks or so, but it wasn’t the same as interacting with someone he wasn’t related to. It felt odd, in a way, to joke with Red—could he really call it joking? He wasn’t sure. He’d only really joked with one person—than how he did with others.</p><p> </p><p>Edge blinked at the hand waved in front of him. “YOU SPACED OUT.” Yeah. Alcohol did that to him too. “OKAY, I THINK IT’S TIME FOR ME TO FIND YOUR BROTHER.”</p><p> </p><p>Breathing deep Edge nodded, careful not to drop anything as they both got up from the log. He felt warm. Whether it was from the fire or the realization that, in a way, he’d really stared a tentative friendship. Edge wasn’t sure.</p><p> </p><p>“IT’S OKAY IF YOU CALL ME THAT.” Edge said, awkward and out of his element. There was no snark right now. No bite, or poison, or even a hint of sarcasm. Most didn’t know it, but Edge was just as awkward as a lot of people.</p><p> </p><p>It just took some introspection and possibly a drink for it to come out.</p><p> </p><p>Razz blinked. A pause. Then a smirk formed without preamble as he rugged Edge back to the house, “AS IF YOU SAYING YOU HATED IT WAS GOING TO STOP ME.”</p><p> </p><p>“PRICK.” He mumbled. Razz just grinned in response, showing off the points of his teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“AND YET HERE I AM. DESPITE ALL THE INSULTS I LEARNED ABOUT THE SOFT BASTARD UNDERNEATH IT ALL.”</p><p> </p><p>Edge shoved at him ignoring the way it felt nice to be around someone he could fall into a rhythm with. Razz just huffed again with a side-step to avoid it.</p><p> </p><p>“HEY! BONE-HEAD!” Red jerked up and Edge had to resist the urge to shake his head. Ever since Undyne had used that as a nickname, Red had fallen to relating to it like Pavlov’s dogs. Beside him Razz huffed out a laugh leaning closer, “YOU GOT A STORY FOR THAT WHOLE REACTION.”</p><p> </p><p>“OLD FRIEND.” Edge left it at that. Razz seemed to get the point.</p><p> </p><p>With a nod Razz kept them along the side of the dining room while Red stacked to-go boxes over more to-go boxes until he had a mini tower in his hands. Edge didn’t even look fazed while Razz’s expression shifted to perturbed. It was nothing new. Whenever he and Red were invited to one of Wines’s events, galas, whatever it would be, Red made sure to get enough leftovers to last a while. </p><p> </p><p>It gave them some time to enjoy something besides cooking and they were staunchly in the corner of food shouldn’t be wasted. If they couldn’t finish it before it went bad—Edge usually had to strangle his brother to keep him from even <em> trying </em>to eat it—they turned it into compost. Their underground had practically drilled that food was a precious, non-waste-able resource when you needed it to restore magic on the fly or needed a boost to heal. </p><p> </p><p>“YOU SHOULD GET SOME.” Edge said, resting once more against a column as Red worked his way over. “WINE HAS ENOUGH, AND IF HE CAN’T GIVE IT ALL AWAY HE’S GOING TO GIVE OUT TO THE REST OF THE STREET OR TRY AND DONATE IT. ISSUE IS SOME OF THE FOOD CAN’T BE DONATED SO YOU SHOULD TAKE WHAT YOU WANT.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a whistle soon after he finished. Red shook his head, claws carefully tucked around the to-go boxes, Edge didn’t really get why. It was paper boxes sure, but they could be pretty sturdy. “damn boss you’re as bright as a fuckin’ light.” </p><p> </p><p>With a furrow to his brow-bone Edge pressed the back of his hand to his cheek. “YEAH,” Razz snickered, making sure Edge doesn’t bonk his head against something in his confusion. “YOUR BROTHER IS A REAL LIGHT WEIGHT.”</p><p> </p><p>“AM NOT.” Another automatic, thought free response. </p><p> </p><p>“YEAH RIGHT AND I’M THE PRINCE OF THE DAMN QUEEN.”</p><p> </p><p>Red snorted. “that’d be the fuckin’ day. you princely?” Razz, the over-dramatic bitch he is—and oh, guess it made sense now why they got along—placed a clawed hand over his soul. </p><p> </p><p>“YOU’RE SAYING THAT <em> I </em>CAN’T BE PRINCELY?” Red nodded without even turning to acknowledge him as they made their way out and down the ridiculously long driveway. “ME? THE ONE WHO KNOWS HOW TO USE FLOWERS? IS AN ABSOLUTE GENTLEMAN EVEN WHEN I FIRST MEET SOMEONE?” </p><p> </p><p>“IF THAT WAS YOU BEING A GENTLEMAN WHEN WE FIRST MET I’D HATE TO SEE YOU WHEN YOU’RE EMBODYING THE WICKED STEP-DAD.” Edge mumbled, passed over to Red when their car was in sight. He hated alcohol. It made him sappy, it made him <em> tired </em>, and he was already tired enough, but worst of all it made Edge say shit like what came out of his mouth, “YOU’RE MORE LIKE A FAIRY GODFATHER?”</p><p> </p><p>There’s a beat of silence before Razz’s grin widened, leaning his face over the door even as Edge shoved at him again. “I BROUGHT YOU SOME GOOD FORTUNE, HUH?”</p><p> </p><p>“CAN SOMEONE JUST KNOCK ME THE FUCK OUT.” Edge replied slumping into his seat with a hand against his cheek in mortification. There’s a pat to his shoulder as Red starts up the car. </p><p> </p><p>“NO CAN DO SUNSHINE,” When he was sober and didn’t feel like he’d spin down the road—and in the process give the cartoon hedgehog a run for his money—Edge was going to throttle the bastard. “YOU’RE MY RIDE BACK AND I FOR ONE ENJOY YOUR INABILITY TO ARTICULATE.” </p><p> </p><p>“JUST BECAUSE I CAN’T ARTICULATE RIGHT NOW DOESN’T MEAN I CAN’T... “ He blinked, sockets narrowing as he tried to think. Next to him Red just sighed. </p><p> </p><p>“dumbass get in the car.” Razz grumbled, finally shutting the door before he clambered into the back seat. “what kind of idiot walks here?”</p><p> </p><p>“I DIDN’T WALK HERE!” Razz said, “MY BROTHER JUST TELEPORTS EVERYWHERE. IT’S CHEAPER. I TOLD HIM I’D FIND A WAY BACK.”</p><p> </p><p>“fuckin’ moocher,” </p><p> </p><p>“I LITERALLY PAY FOR THE DUMBEST FUCKING BOUQUETS TO GET PAST YOUR NO LOITERING RULE.”</p><p> </p><p>“you’re a fuckin’ moocher right now.” </p><p> </p><p>There’s a groan from the back. Even without seeing his face Edge can just imagine the look of faux-annoyance. </p><p> </p><p>***</p><p> </p><p>“HEY ASSHOLE!” It isn’t really the first thing Edge expected to hear first thing in the morning, but he didn’t expect that he’d go the whole day without hearing it either. Sockets narrowed as he looked up despite the sunhat balanced on his head Edge just grunted waving the prick over. Razz’s boots thumped against the wood of their back patio. “YOU WEREN’T KIDDING,” He said with a whistle of air through his nose, looking over it all. “HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WORKIN’ ON THIS, SUNSHINE?”</p><p> </p><p>Edge looked over the pocket of the area he and Red had covered. It was a mix of sand and intentionally poor soil. It was taking up the southern section of their backyard, away from the other plants to let some of the plants propagate easier, right now they were still setting everything up that needed to be—such as finishing up the soil replacements, a way to contain the area and because Edge was Edge; make the are as beautiful as possible.</p><p> </p><p>He might not enter the city’s garden of the year event, but Edge made damn sure that their garden and store was fucking <em> resplendent. </em>He was a man who enjoyed beautiful things and hated a mess, so of course that would follow him into his work with plants. </p><p> </p><p>“FOR THE PAST THREE DAYS,” He explained going back to his replacement. They’d be finished with that in about an hour, maybe quicker with Razz’s help. Next to him Razz crouched doing the same. “YOU’RE GOING TO PASS OUT IN THAT.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz scoffed. He tugged at his shirt—black as always and long sleeved. “YEAH WELL I DON’T EXACTLY HAVE GARDEN WEAR.”</p><p> </p><p>“SECOND DRAWER ON THE TOP FLOOR. LAST DOOR DOWN THE HALL.” Edge said, smoothing out a section with his gloves. He’s thought about carving some designs on some rocks, but ultimately settled against it. Razz blinked at him. “ARE YOU GOING TO GO CHANGE? RED WILL BE BACK WITH FOOD IN A BIT SO YOU’D BEST EARN THE RIGHT TO EAT, OR HE’LL CALL YOU A MOOCHER AGAIN.” </p><p> </p><p>With a huff Razz’s boots thumped back into the house as Edge focused on his current task. They’d ordered the plants already, some of them grown some of them not—because Edge liked to raise things from the beginning—and he’d ended up buying some plants that <em> weren’t </em>succulents too. Just because they’d make the area nice. </p><p> </p><p>With the soil part as the smallest section and broken up with some stones he was going to plant some Hens and Chicks—and had to make sure they didn’t spread too far every day—to compliment them he’d bought a few Rock Cress to use as a border <em> and </em>to decorate a wall indoors, as another divider for the farthest side of the are they’d designated Edge had some Sedums—Cherry Truffle and Pool Party Sedums to be exact.</p><p> </p><p>“YOU GOT ANOTHER HAT?” Razz shouted from the open bedroom window. He leaned out of it back having to bend because the window refused to open up the whole way. He looked like an idiot. “OR AM I JUST SUPPOSED TO SUFFER WHILE YOU LOOK LIKE A NATURAL FARM HAND.”</p><p> </p><p>Edge didn’t miss a beat. “CLOSET, CITY-SLICKER.”</p><p> </p><p>“YOU’VE BEEN HERE LONGER THAN I HAVE!” </p><p> </p><p>“STILL COUNTS.” </p><p> </p><p>He can hear the huff all the way in the garden. Going back to the work Edge taps a gloved claw against his knee. They’d bought some Echeveria as well… they could get overcrowded easily so he’d only use a few out here and the rest could be potted indoors. Then the Aeoniums would have to be put in the driest part of the area to make sure neither he nor Red over-watered them on accident. They didn’t get too much rain here so it wasn’t a worry and if they did have a rare rainy day they’d invested in a shader to divert the rain that they could pull out. </p><p> </p><p>“SO SINCE WHEN DID YOU BECOME AN EXPERT IN XERISCAPING?” Razz questioned as he came down in a spare set of overalls, hat and his own gloves. Edge tried not to snort, but the knock to the back of the head didn't even bother him when he eventually broke down. “YOU LOOK JUST AS RIDICULOUS! MAYBE EVEN MORE SO YOUR SHIT IS LANKY AS HELL ON YOU.”</p><p> </p><p>“YOU TRY FINDING PROPER WEAR FOR A SKELETON.” Razz rolled his eyes muttering the sentence and his breath in mockery when Edge finished speaking. With a jab of his elbow Edge tilts his head to the replacement soil.</p><p> </p><p>“BOSSY, BOSSY, BOSSY.”</p><p> </p><p>“OF COURSE I AM THE MAIN OWNER AFTER ALL.”</p><p> </p><p>“WHATEVER. I SAW THE MOON CACTUS ON YOUR TABLE, CAN I HAVE SOME OF THE EXTRAS?” </p><p> </p><p>Edge hummed as he finished up the last section he needed to fill with sand wiping the mess of his overalls as he stood. “AFTER WE FINISH. I CAN GIVE YOU SOME SUPPLIES TO HELP.” He can feel Razz roll his eyes at the extension of free supplies. The bastard complained about paying, but complained even <em> more </em>about free gifts. “I’LL GET THE FIRST SET OF PLANTS THAT CAN BE GROWN WHILE YOU FINISH YOUR SIDE.” </p><p> </p><p>Razz just grumbled falling to his knees after he drags the soil-replacer closer. With a shake of his head Edge goes to retrieve everything that can be grown into the sand before he started the slow process of integrating the grown plants by hand and <em> then </em>the seeds. </p><p> </p><p>Before long the sound of Red’s car door shutting echoes loud enough for the to hear it out back. Razz’s head lifts up like a dog ready for a street, “YOU GOT <em> THE HABIT? </em>I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW THERE WAS ONE HERE!”</p><p> </p><p>Edge smirked with a roll of his shoulder. “VEGAN BURGERS AREN’T TOO RARE HERE, BUT IT’S THE ONLY PLACE I CAN STAND WHEN IT COMES TO THAT KIND OF FOOD.”</p><p> </p><p>Razz is already up and tearing the door open to steal one when Red wobbled out the door, unable to see through his own collection of bags. don’t just fuckin’ steal it you mongrel!” </p><p> </p><p>“AH, AH, AH,” Razz held up a finger. “I DIDN’T STEAL IT. ASK SUNSHINE THERE ABOUT THE WORK I DID. </p><p> </p><p>“i don’t fuckin’ car you’re still a moocher.” </p><p> </p><p>“OH C’MON. EDGE TELL YOUR BROTHER I’M NOT A MOOCHER!” </p><p> </p><p>Edge shrugged, never turning to face them. “YOU HAVE TO PROVE IT MY WORD DOESN’T MEAN SHIT WHEN IT COMES TO FOOD.”</p><p> </p><p>“YOU’RE BOTH BABIES!” </p><p> </p><p>Red grumbled setting the bags down on the lone table they had in the yard. “nah, i jus’ like fuckin’ wit’ ya. you think we’re going to finish today boss?” </p><p> </p><p>“WITH RAZZ AROUND?” He teased a genuine smile on his face—that he would <em> never </em> admit was actually a smile if asked. “I’M AFRAID IT’LL TAKE A YEAR.”</p><p> </p><p>“I RESENT THAT.”</p><p> </p><p>“TOUGH LUCK.”</p><p> </p><p>There’s an aggressive munch before Razz comes back to help plant, one hand curled around his burger. Today was going to be a good day. Turns out the bastard that nearly hit him wasn’t so bad after all.</p><p> </p><p>Not that Edge would ever admit that sober. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you liked this then I'm glad thanks for reading! </p><p>And if you like the silly lads, I never stop talking about them here: <a href="https://little-guy-writes.tumblr.com/">the blog</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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